


I Don’t Know What You’ve Been Told

by dedougal



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-05
Updated: 2011-04-05
Packaged: 2017-10-17 15:16:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/178205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dedougal/pseuds/dedougal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen Ackles is perfectly happy minding his own business as a perfectly ordinary soldier out in the desert. His not-so calm life is interrupted by the arrival of a photojournalist – one Jared Padalecki.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Don’t Know What You’ve Been Told

“Jesus fucking Christ, Chris. Sarge catches you like that and there’ll be hell to pay.” Jensen covered his eyes with one hand as he made his way towards his best friend.

“Don’t you mock, Ackles. You’re just jealous you didn’t think up my unique cooling system first.” Chris settled back on his elbows and smirked up at Jensen.

“Pants around your ankles does not make for a motherfucking cooling system, you dickwad,” Jensen replied calmly, settling onto the upturned crate to the side of Chris and digging half a paperback out of his leg pocket.

Chris merely cackled. “Does it mean a different thing for you, asswipe. Am I getting you all hot and bothered?”

“World of no. “ Jensen flicked through the pages of the book. “I know how often you shower.”

Chris ignored him, leaning back in the sun. The fuckwit was tanning himself, camo pants caught at the top of his boots, boxers covering his family jewels and uniform jacket open to catch the breeze. If there were a breeze. There wasn’t much of a breeze out here in the middle of the summer. There wasn’t much of anything but unrelenting sun and cloudless blue skies. It wasn’t called the desert for nothing. Chris still had his helmet on though.

Jensen found his place and started to read.

“The way I see it, the Sarge can’t complain. I’m in uniform, right. The minute that klaxon starts singing like a sweetheart, I jump up, fix my flies and I’m good to go.” Chris shifted onto one elbow and hit at Jensen.

A few pages flew out of the book. Jensen retrieved them and stuffed them roughly into place. “Genius.”

“Under-fucking-appreciated genius, I am. Not like the rest of you dicks. I got a brain and I know how to use it.” Chris settled back to enjoy the sun some more. They weren’t due back on duty until that evening.

“Uh huh.” Jensen gave up on the book and replaced it in his pocket again. Chris was obviously in the mood to talk. “Any other brilliant ideas you got, Kane?”

“I heard a rumour.” Chris lifted up his mirrored shades to look Jensen more directly in the eyes. “Christ, that’s bright!”

“Rumour? You? Never.” Jensen settled more comfortably on his crate, dangling his hands between his legs. He didn’t have the balls to roll his pants down like Chris. He’d just burn like a lobster anyway.

“There’s a journo coming to join us. A photojournalist, so they say.” Chris was back to courting skin cancer. “Way I sees it, I get the chance to look after this guy, he pops a few snaps and I’m back home doing the recruiting circuit before you can say jack squat.”

Jensen nodded. It wasn’t worth arguing with Chris. Any photojournalist around here was going to be wanting pictures of burned out cars or flag waving Iraqis. Not photos of piss-ant grunts.

Carlson came through the gate clutching a piece of paper and wandered over in their general direction. “The Sarge is looking for you fuck-faces.”

“That’s nice,” Chris drawled. Jensen made no attempt to move either. Carlson hesitated for a moment before plunking himself down on another crate.

“I told him you were in barracks,” Carlson admitted. “I heard a rumour.”

“The photog? Already heard it,” Chris dismissed the idea. Carlson looked like he was going to argue but instead shrugged. Jensen approved. It was too fucking hot to be trying to argue with Chris. Or even ask what he was doing.

There was another sound of footsteps from the gate and the Sarge’s voice rang through. “This is our vehicle depot.”

“Fuck.” Chris scrabbled to his feet and pulled his pants up. He was fiddling with his fly when the Sarge – Morgan – came around the truck and spotted them. He gave Chris the stink eye, knowing he’d been up to something and glared at Carlson for good measure. Carlson held up his piece of paper and the Sarge nodded.

“As you were, Carlson.” Morgan’s voice was more contained than usual and his statement was minus any of his usual conversation quirks. He was obviously on his best behaviour.

“Sir.” Jensen stifled a laugh as Carlson headed off to the main part of the camp. Chris managed to get himself fastened before the journalist came around the truck.

Morgan drew himself up. “Men, this is Mr Padalecki. He’s here to embed for a week.” The Sarge paused, looking over Chris. “Ackles, I think you’d better take care of him. He can sleep in your barracks, though.”

Jensen saluted. It seemed like the only reasonable reply. Morgan made a low growling sound that could have been him clearing his throat, crooked his finger at Chris and marched back through the gate, Chris at his heels. Jensen sat back down on his crate and gestured for the journalist to take the other one.

The journalist was younger than he’d expected, tanned already, mirrored sunglasses firmly in place. He wore a white shirt under the vest he’d probably been issued at HQ and a pair of khakis. A camera hung around his neck. Jensen was suddenly glad of his own shades as he eyed the guy up and down. He was probably taller than Jensen by a good few inches.

The guy looked around for a moment before returning to Jensen. “Hi!”

Jensen stuck out his hand and the guy took it eagerly. His palm felt smooth against Jensen’s rough one. “Jensen Ackles. Ten years in, third tour here.”

“Jared Padalecki. This is my first time.” The journalist – Jared, Jensen reminded himself – grinned widely. Christ, he even had dimples. “You’re from Texas.”

Jensen scratched at his jaw. He’d missed a bit of stubble that morning and could feel it rasping. “What’s it to you?”

“I’m from San Antonio. What a coincidence!” Jensen could practically see the exclamation marks. Then Jared brought up his camera and took a picture too swiftly for Jensen to protest.

“Not really. Texas is a big place,” Jensen replied. “I’m from Dallas. Near Dallas.”

“Cool.” Jared seemed to run out of things to say and started to look around again. “So, do you work with the trucks?”

“Nah. This is just an out of the way spot to catch some rays,” Jensen kept it clean but couldn’t help the smirk that crossed his face at Jared’s apparent astonishment. “I gotta keep up my tan.”

“You’re peeling. And freckled,” Jared pointed out. He shrugged. “Just telling the truth.”

Jensen didn’t really have a comeback for that. “C’mon. I’ll give you the tour, introduce you to the rest of the guys.”

Jared got to his feet a lot quicker than Jensen did and Jensen just about smacked his hand over his face in frustration. This was not going to be the gravy train, Chris predicted. This was going to be like having a giant puppy following him around. Jensen was right too, the guy was taller than him. He was never going to live it down.

He gestured to Jared to walk ahead of him back towards the main compound. Jensen dropped back a few paces to gather his thoughts as Jared eagerly headed off. Jensen found his attention drifting south as Jared walked away, eyes focused on the smooth play of muscles under the thin pants. Well, maybe there were compensations.

 

The barracks were hot, crowded and not far off being made of canvas. “They built these cabins for the first troops deployed but they’ve ended up as officer country. This is us,” Jensen explained gesturing around the tight space.

There were six low slung cots, metal and rope with creaseless sheets precisely folded over them. Metal lockers sat at the end of the beds. On the walls was a collage of pictures torn from magazines, newspaper articles, postcards from home… Jared wandered over to take a look.

“We don’t take anything down. Just add to it. Even when we move on, we leave it behind. I like to think the next guys will add to it.” Jensen leaned against the fragile metal of the doorway gingerly. “That bunk’s free.”

“Was it… Who did it belong to?” Jared was obviously quite nervous still.

“One of my buddies. Tom.” Jensen watched to see if Jared was brave enough to ask the question he was obviously working himself up to.

Jared eyed the bed. “Did he… pass on?”

The kid had guts. “Nah. Shipped back home. Decided not to re-up. Don’t blame him, mind you. He’d living as a civilian now. Don’t know what kind of job he’s got. Shitty economy and all.” Jensen felt obscurely proud that Jared had the balls to ask. Let him survive some of Chris’ bullshitting and he’d manage fine.

“Guess you want to get back to your duties?” Jared asked, looking around.

Jensen slung himself down on his bed, watching Jared stroke his camera with his long fingers. Really long fingers. Nice size. Jensen allowed himself a happy moment of fantasising. It had been too long since he’d really seen anyone new. Sam Worthington didn’t count. He’d have something new to change things up in the showers. Jared swung the camera up and took a couple of quick shots.

“You want me to pose?” Jensen asked, swinging his legs off the bed and sitting up. “I can do all tough and soldier like or perhaps more sensitive brooding?” Jensen flexed his biceps and then leaned back on his elbows, spreading his legs wide. Jared’s eyes flicked up his body and settled uneasily on his chest. “I’m on duty tonight – gate duty. Patrol tomorrow afternoon – you should come on that. At least we don’t have checkpoint duty this rotation.”

“Why not?” Jared asked. He turned to fiddle with his bags, drawing out some more camera… stuff. Paraphernalia. Accoutrements. Jensen had no idea what they were. Black and silver pieces of kit. Some of it might look at home on his gun.

“Fucking sucks. It’s like waiting for suicide bombers.” Jensen paused. “I probably shouldn’t be swearing like that.”

Jared finished fiddling with whatever he was doing and turned back around. Jensen saw he was biting his lip and really wasn’t sure whether that was a sign of Jared trying not laugh or something else. Jensen’s gaydar had never been that developed. He tended to hang around in bars and wait for guys to approach him. It had never steered him wrong.

“S’aright. I think it’s part of the “authentic war experience” that the paper sent me to capture.” Jared swept the bits he didn’t want back into the bag he’d tumbled them out of and set it neatly beside the others on the bed. “The tour? Your CO gave me the bare bones. I’d like to see more, if that’s okay.”

Jensen tapped his fingers on his leg. He was started to like Jared as more than eye candy and a bit of a distraction. The kid had guts. “Look, man. I’m good with playing nursemaid. I don’t mind. Just… There’s going to be times when you’re gonna want to take a picture and I’m going to ask you not to. If we can do that, everything will be just fine and fucking dandy.”

Jared nodded.

 

They ran into Chris again. This time he wasn’t as peaceable. “What the fuck you doing to that weapon, soldier? You planning to fuck yourself with it? You planning to slam it up your lily white ass?”

Chris was toe to toe with one of the newer camp members, pretty much straight out of basic. The soldier didn’t know where to look, pale under the tan he was already acquiring. Chris had to be spraying him bad too. “No answer? You mute, boy, as well as dumb?”

Jensen folded his arms and looked impassive. It was always doable behind mirrored shades. “Problem, Kane?”

“Only that this chickenshit dick for brains didn’t think to put the fucking safety on.” Chris was obviously quite enjoying himself. “And you know why, soldier?”

The new guy stood still. Jensen appreciated the tactic. It would be what he’d done in training when some drill sergeant got up in his face and all.

“It’s because the best part of you dried up on your momma’s thigh, isn’t it?” Chris continued in a similar vein for a few more minutes before letting the guy head on his way. Jensen chuckled dryly. “What is it with these new fucks?”

“Probably trying to be all ready to go all the time. Remember – we’re always being fucking shot at.” Jensen elbowed Chris in the ribs. He stopped when he heard a click and looked back to see Jared lowering his camera.

Jared shrugged. “So you’re not being shot at all the time?”

“Not here in camp, not any more. Fewer mortars around. Like I said, checkpoints and patrols.” Jensen relaxed when Jared nodded.

“So what do you do for fun? While you wait?” Jared sounded genuinely interested.

“Jerk off,” replied Chris. “I am particularly fond of Miss Megan Fox while this man here has the whole Russell Crowe in Gladiator shtick to keep him happy.” Chris’ hand landed heavily on Jensen’s shoulder.

Jared froze at that one. Jensen watched his shoulders tense under the white shirt. Then his easy smile came out again. “Anything I can actually put in the article?”

“The Brits had this amazing game…” Chris started. But Jensen stopped his explaining toby tig to Jared by corking up his mouth with a firm hand.

“The usual American pastimes: movies, beer, baseball and cleaning our weapons.” Jensen kept his voice light.

Jared’s grin turned a little wicked and Jensen felt a slow burn in the pit of his stomach. “Cleaning our weapons. I like that.”

Chris subsided a little and Jensen withdrew his hand. “You got it, man. I’ll explain the game to you later when Nanny Ackles has fucked off.”

Jensen replied by flipping the bird then continued taking Jared round the base.

 

It was freezing at night. Fucking desert. Jensen hunched within his heavy jacket and blew on his hands. Jared had looked astonished when Jensen got ready for his night duty and had thrust a coat at him. Jared’s wrists had stuck out a little from the sleeves which gave Jensen the urge to wrap his hands around them.

What the fuck was it with this guy? Jensen tried to analyse it as he counted paces back and forth in front of the gate. He should be snug in the guard hut but had decided that it was best to leave Jared in there with the Sarge and have a little breather. It was pretty damned crowded in there. Jensen thought back over their tour and their meal earlier. Jared’s easy smile had meant that everyone on the base was pretty happy to chat and have their picture taken. The novelty of having someone new to talk to was pretty sweet.

Maybe that was it. Someone new. Jensen’s fellow soldiers were just that. Comrades. Jared wasn’t. Jared really wasn’t. He hadn’t asked about Chris’ comments but then Jensen hadn’t given him any opportunity. He’d rushed him from one post to another that afternoon.

The Sarge came out of the hut. “Get your ass in here, Ackles.”

Jensen hurried over. The heat within the small plastic crate was pretty fucking welcome. “Yes, Sarge?”

“I’m to head over to HQ. You stay put here with Mr Padalecki.” The Sarge eyed Jensen warily. He knew something was up. But Jensen knew better than to argue and flipped off a salute that was only marginally sarcastic.

Jared was sitting down, long legs seeming to stretch out for miles in front of him. As the Sarge shut the door behind him, the crate seemed smaller than it usually did. “Mr Padalecki?” Jensen asked, in lieu of anything better to say.

“He won’t call me Jared. I think it isn’t in his nature.”

Jensen slumped down in the other seat and looked out of the plastic window into the darkness outside. There was a small heater in the crate, letting off a dull red light but that was more sullen warmth than anything. “That’s Morgan for you. He’s pretty by-the-book, but he doesn’t flip out on you for reasonable behaviour.”

An uncomfortable silence established itself again. Jensen wondered if he could get away with pacing in front of the gate again. The Sarge might kill him if he left Jared in the hut unattended anyway. Jensen made sure he was staring resolutely out of the window rather than at Jared’s careless sprawl. Of course his best intentions were destroyed by Jared’s seeming unwillingness to let anything lie. Jensen should have expected it. Jared was a journalist of a sort after all.

“What Chris said earlier. About Gladiator?” Jared leaned forward, knees wide and hands – broad, smooth palms clasped together – dangling down in between them.

Jensen couldn’t not look at him. “Yeah?”

“Was it true?” Jared’s eyes were guileless as he directly at Jensen.

Jensen scratched his hand under the edge of his helmet. “Haven’t you heard of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell?”

Jared smiled. “That was one of the reasons I wanted to come here. I had this idea of finding a gay soldier to ask about his experience, now the repeal had gone through and all. It would make a good story.” His eyes were a little more guarded, perhaps realising that he was stepping in delicate territory.

Jensen looked out into the darkness again. There were cars passing along the main road south that ran a hundred yards to the east of the camp and he watched their lights for a few minutes. “I don’t want to be that story.”

“So you are gay?” Jared pressed, leaning forward, looking sympathetic.

“Are you?” Jensen replied rather more rudely. He was half hoping for Jared to give up the line of questioning or even for the Sarge to return.

Jared nodded. He kept his eyes on Jensen. The puppy dog look had gone from them and he looked more focused, sharper, smarter all of a sudden.

“I joined the army because my family found out and kicked me out-“ Jensen held up his hand to forestall any protestation of sympathy. “It was a long time ago. But it meant no college, no staying at home. Army became my family and I ain’t about to do something fucking stupid like come out to the world to fuck with that.”

Jared nodded. He seemed to understand that he’d pushed too far. Then a hint of that wicked grin passed across his face. “But you wouldn’t object to me making you a pin up?”

“Cushy recruiting circuit here I come!” Jensen forced out cheerfully. “Seriously. I manage. Kane caught me with my tongue wrapped around some guy’s tonsils on leave back home and never lets me live it down.”

Jared let out a bark of laughter and Jensen smiled at him ruefully. Jared was smiling more genuinely, dimples deep in the curves of his cheeks. Morgan battered back through the door and Jensen stepped out into the cold night air once more. Rank had its privileges and staying warm in the guard hut meant for two when there were three people there was one of them.

Jensen was glad of the cool air. He could feel it against his overheated cheeks. He was sure he hadn’t missed the start of interest in Jared’s eyes when he mention being caught with that twink back in Fort Worth. The urge to get laid was pretty damn strong after the type of dry spell Jensen was currently in the middle of. The type of dry spell that might cause his dick to shrivel up and drop off if he didn’t do something about it soon. He scuffed at the ground with his toe and looked back towards the guard hut where Jared was politely nodding along to one of the Sarge’s numerous stories. Jared’s eyes flicked out to look at Jensen for a moment before returning inside.

Jensen made himself look away.

 

Jared was still asleep when Jensen woke the next morning. He’d roused when the others had headed out at roll call but had fallen asleep again easily. It was just him and Jared now. Jensen sat up, scrubbing his hands across his face.

Jared shifted in his sleep. He was on his stomach, stretched out, and the thin blanket had slid down his body during the night. It was barely clinging to his legs now. His t-shirt had scrunched up and Jensen was caught by the smooth golden skin. There was no harm in looking, Jared shifted again, throwing off more of the sheet. Turned out his t-shirt wasn’t the only piece of clothing to shift in the night. The waistband of Jared’s pyjama pants had slid down too, revealing the dimple at the base of his spine. There wasn’t a tan line as far as Jensen could make out in the dim light. Jared let out a small snore as Jensen wondered what to do next.

The alarm at his bedside went off with a clamour.

Jared rolled over, revealing a toned set of abs and a thin brown treasure trail and glared at the ceiling. Jensen swung his legs over the side of the bed opposite to Jared and hit at the alarm. “Up and at ‘em!”

Jared let out a low moan at that. “I need coffee.”

Jensen let out a dry chuckle. “I hear you. But the US Army expects us to get dressed first.” He felt a surge of arousal at that for some reason. Jared and dressing and undressing… Not that hard to understand. “I’m hitting the showers.”

Jared scrambled through the bag still unpacked at the end of his bed, pulling out a shower kit. Jensen had to talk to his suddenly more insistent morning wood very sternly in order to be able to show Jared the way through to the shower block.

 

The day became an endless round of keeping Jensen on edge. Jared would lean too close, stand too near. Let his hand linger too long on Jensen’s shoulder. Every touch send a bolt of electricity down Jensen’s spine. He couldn’t call Jared on it either. They were constantly surrounded by other soldiers, heading out in the truck for a sweep patrol in the afternoon. It was late by the time Jensen stayed behind to check the vehicle back in and sent Jared to eat with Chris, just so he could have a little break.

Jared was talking to a short dark-haired guy when Jensen arrived at the mess tent. There was a burn, a twist in his guts, when Jared threw his head back and let out a long, bellyaching laugh. Jensen rubbed his hand across his chest. Jared was wearing a white t-shirt that was probably a little too tight and another pair of khakis. When he leaned across the table to steal something off the plate of the other guy, a sliver of skin at the base of his back revealed itself.

This was fucking ridiculous. Jensen headed to the cook to grab himself some ribs and a slice of something masquerading as apple pie before sliding his tray down next to Jared. “Okay to join you?”

Jared looked up with an expression Jensen hoped he was right in interpreting as you don’t even have to ask. It was either that or it’s your base, you idiot. “Sure. Have you met Misha?”

Jensen shook his head and nodded at the other guy as he shovelled some fries into his mouth. This Misha was watching him closely, eyes a little too intent for Jensen to feel entirely comfortable. He felt like he had something embarrassing on his face. Jensen grabbed his napkin just in case. “How do you know Jared?” Jensen asked, then lowered his face to his food to hide the blush he was sure he would be covering his face. Shit. Way to sound like some kind of jealous, over-protective boyfriend.

Jared nudged Jensen with his shoulder and Jensen had to look up at him. “Misha’s my boss. That’s why he got to hang around the brass while I got landed with the grunts.” There was no bitterness in his tone, only teasing.

Jensen was half-tempted to let out a grunt at that, but decided that it was better that he return to his food. He twisted the cap off his bottle of water and sank half the contents. Misha was looking between them now, eyes dancing. He stood up, brushed off the seat of his pants. “I’ll just leave you boys to it.”

Jared gave some kind of off-hand wave and Jensen raised his eyebrows and nodded, mouth full again. When he finally swallowed, he turned to Jared. “Your boss, huh?”

“Mostly straight. Married. One kid.” Jared ticked off the list on his fingers. Jensen squirmed in his seat and took another bite of the ribs in order to avoid answering. “Jealous dick,” Jared whispered in his ear.

Son of a bitch. Jensen turned to him and glared. Just because Jared was right, didn’t mean that Jensen had to admit anything. He kept eating, as Jared changed the subject and started telling him all about his dogs back home.

 

Outside the mess tent, the camp was quiet. It was one of those evenings when a number of activities seemed to take place – a baseball game, a film, some kind of inter-unit chess competition – and it had been late when Jensen headed to the mess tent. Jared was quiet beside him, for once. Jensen didn’t mind this fucking country when it was like this – cool evening air not yet freezing, stars wheeling above him. He sometimes, ridiculously, had these cradle of civilization moments on nights like these.

Jared’s brain obviously worked in a similar way. “Kinda romantic, all the stars.”

They were between lights now, the little shadow valleys in the darkness. Jensen knew that no one would see them if they took three steps backwards in between the mess tent and one of the other tents. Jensen took a step and looked up. Jared followed him, blocking out the view of the stars. Jensen took another step backwards. Jared grinned at him, silhouetted in between the tents now. “Luring me in, Private Ackles?”

“Want to follow, Mr Padalecki?” Jensen took another couple of steps and stopped, leaning against the solid, concrete-based pillar that was holding the tent in place. Jared was on him in the next instant, pressing up against him. Jensen glanced back to check no one had seen them before putting his hand on Jared’s hips and pulling him even closer. Jared’s lips were smooth, slightly dry, tasting of the coke he’d drunk with his dinner. Jensen’s second attempt at a kiss was even more successful when Jared opened his mouth and let Jensen slip his tongue in. Then there was no more need for keeping count. Jensen wound one hand in Jared’s hair and let the other slip along the waistband of his pants, up under that slightly too tight t-shirt. Jared was equally unhesitating, letting one of his broad palms rest at the back of Jensen’s neck and the other rest over the swell of Jensen’s ass. Jensen ground back into it.

A passing truck’s headlights interrupted them. Jared stepped back, a little unsteadily. Jensen reached up to try and fingercomb his tousled hair into some kind of order. “I kinda mussed you…”

Jared grinned when his hands tangled with Jensen’s. “So what we doing now?”

“Guess we should head back to barracks. Almost time for lights out and all,” Jensen drawled out. He could feel the pressure on his zipper and was wondering how it would feel to let Jared fumble his way inside his pants.

Jared tried to be subtle as he readjusted himself in his own pants. “Will anyone else be there?”

Jensen thought about it. “Chris’ll be at the game. Mike’s a chess fan. And Jason got night duty.” Jared turned around and started walking with purpose. Jensen let out a dry chuckle and followed. He was only mostly disappointed when it turned out that the baseball game had ended early and Chris was there to ask what they’d been up to.

 

Of course, with all the shuffling their duties had been going through, Jared’s last day with the squad ended up being checkpoint duty day. Jensen hated checkpoint duty. He hated it more than snakes and spiders and scorpions and sand. It felt like there was a target painted right between his shoulder blades. It itched, constantly, like someone was watching him. Yet Jensen knew that today, at least, one of the sets of eyes on his body were friendly.

Jared was lucky that his camera hid most of his face. The heated looks he’d been sending Jensen ever since their… encounter… outside the mess tent made a mockery of the fact they were trying to fly under the radar. With his camera fixed to his face, Jensen couldn’t see the sheer lust and desire radiating off Jared. Chris had known something was up but was biding his time, waiting for when the knowledge would cause the worst annoyance no doubt.

The noise of the crowds outside the marketplace was also something Jensen hated about checkpoint duty. They were holding everyone up, causing traffic chaos. No matter that it was for safety – a suicide bomber in the market place would cause a hell of a lot of damage. No one liked being held up, and the shouting, chattering, blaring of horns, useless revving of engines all added to the cacophony.

Camera dangling around his neck, Jared was in his element, feet dangling off the tailgate of the wagon. He was making faces at a group of street kids who were obviously interested in the bag of gummi candy he was dangling enticingly. He wanted to take their picture, but the translator was busy helping Chris. Jensen dragged his attention away from the way that Jared’s hair was curling at the nape of his neck and watched the way Chris dealt with the irate driver in front of him. That was what he was supposed to be doing.

The driver moved on, pacified, and Jensen lifted his head to scan the swollen crowd making their way towards them. The women, in their usual groups of three and four, were a mix of traditionally dressed and more westernised. Jensen nudged his shades further up his nose and turned to look in the other direction. Jared handed over the bag of candy to the kids and raised his camera. They seemed to understand his pantomiming and posed as a group before running off to enjoy their spoils. Jared was chuckling as he dropped off the truck and came to stand beside Jensen. Jensen turned his attention back to the crowd in front of Chris for a moment before acknowledging Jared.

“Did you…?” Jensen started before trailing off and returning his attention to the crowd.

Jared elbowed him, gently. “What?”

Jensen held up his hand. There was something… Something had grabbed his attention, standing out. He found his attention drawn to an ordinary looking man, nothing special. His clothes were the standard jeans and t-shirt. He looked uncomfortable in them, though, like they didn’t fit right. He had a full beard and he wasn’t moving like the others around him. They were all determined to get into the market. He was hanging back, acting casual. It made him look even more out of place. There was something in the man’s hands, but Jensen couldn’t see what it was from where he was standing.

The man looked up, met his eyes and ducked away. The sense of wrongness Jensen had been feeling intensified. Jensen started moving towards Chris, only vaguely aware of Jared at his side. The man also sped up, coming towards them more determinedly. Jensen grabbed at the weapon hanging loose at his side. He didn’t want to shout, to panic the crowd. Then he saw what the man had in his hands.

To anyone else, it would look just like a normal backpack, but Jensen could see the wires trailing along the handle now. He locked his gaze on the man once more, to see his eyes narrowing, his mouth tightening. To see him take that one final breath to steady himself.

“Bomb!” Jensen yelled, tersely. The chaos he’d been hoping to prevent erupted as the crowd started to run. They didn’t know where the bomb was so they ran from the checkpoint, from Jensen. The screaming started and there was the crunch of metal as cars collided to avoid the panicking crowd.

Jared was clicking away at his side as Jensen turned to him. “Stupid fucking…” Jensen bit off the insult as he pushed Jared down to the ground and covered him as much as he could with his body. Jensen could feel the blast of the bomb help them that last few inches and he slammed into Jared, wrapping his arms around his head to protect him. The noise kicked in a second later – the hot rush of air, the sullen boom of the explosives. The screeching of car alarms. More screaming. Jensen felt the patter of hot metal against his exposed back but didn’t move. He had to protect Jared, keep him safe.

Jensen raised his head when he stopped being aware of the metal. The smell was starting to hit now. Burnt flesh and smoke. He coughed. His radio was crackling, snatches of voices asking what had happened. Instead of answering, Jensen looked down at Jared. It took him a couple of tries to be able to ask if he was okay. Jared didn’t seem capable of answering, instead looking at Jensen and opening and closing his mouth. His voice came to Jensen all at once.

“Are you okay? Jensen? Answer me? What happened? Jensen?” Jared sounded thoroughly shaken. His hands came up and smoothed over the exposed skin on Jensen’s face.

“There was a bomber. A suicide,” Jensen told him. He should be getting up, helping. There seemed to be something holding him down. He tried to turn and look. “I should…”

Jared grabbed at his face, forcing him to look at him. “Jensen. You should just stay still. The medics’ll be here in a moment.”

“Why? Are you hurt?” Jensen tried to move again, only to have Jared hold onto him more firmly. Time seemed to be passing oddly, because then Chris was there and then he wasn’t. Finally Jensen found himself being lifted away from the warmth of Jared’s body. He was cold all over, all of a sudden. He looked back at Jared. Jared was covered in blood from the chest down. It all looked to be on top of his clothes though. Jensen suddenly understood what had happened as the medic’s injection took hold.

 

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty!” Chris was louder than usual as he trotted in to the base hospital. He ignored the annoyed glance from the doctor.

Jensen had endured an hour of poking and prodding in the name of diagnosis and wasn’t quite in the mood. “Doesn’t Sleeping Beauty get woken with a kiss?”

“Don’t get all excited there, Fuckface. I ain’t kissing you and that pretty boy reporter of yours shipped out already.” Jensen felt a surge of disappointment at the news. He had been entertaining thoughts of Jared coming to see him. Chris grasped his shoulder and squeezed tightly for a moment. “Uncle Chris knows these things.”

“So, why are you here?” Jensen asked. He didn’t want to dwell on the fact Jared had left without saying anything.

Chris dragged over a chair and sat down. “Can’t I visit my bud?”

Jensen lifted his head to give him the stink eye. Lying on his stomach really hindered the range of gestures he could make. He slumped back down on the pillows. The poking and prodding hadn’t resulted in him finding out anything new and all he wanted to do was plug in earphones and ignore the world.

“I might have a letter to pass on from Lois Lane,” Chris told him, obviously reading Jensen’s mood accurately. “I’ll give you it, if you cheer up.”

And that would be how Jensen worked out he could still flip Chris the bird. “Now give me it.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to read it to you. So you don’t strain your eyes or anything?” Chris fished out a battered envelope from his pocket. “On the other hand, I don’t really want to know about the epic gay love.”

“There was no gay love, epic or otherwise. He probably just wants to make sure I’m not about to sue him or anything.” Jensen tried not to let his eagerness show.

Chris held onto the letter for a long moment before handing it over with no further joking. “Nah. The way he looked when the medics took you away? That was more than friendship. Make sure you write back.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Jensen replied, tucking the envelope under his pillow. He wasn’t going to give in to Chris and read it now. Although a surge of hope had shot through him at Chris’ words. They wouldn’t let Jared in here. It was too sensitive a place for him to have a camera. Maybe that was why he had left without saying goodbye, or anything. And Jensen told himself he was not a twelve year old girl with a crush, repeatedly.

Chris let out a dry chuckle and settled back. He was happy enough to catch Jensen up on all the happenings and fuck ups he was missing, lying pretty and not even being man enough to appreciate the nurses.

 

Jensen let his hand find the letter under his pillow again. He hadn’t opened it, not through dinner or the long evening wait. He had fallen asleep with his fingertips resting on the crumpled envelope. The ward was mostly dark at night, though the lights from the nurse’s station sometimes kept him awake. The noises of people shifting, snoring, crying out in pain, were all things he could sleep through after spending most of his adult life in barracks.

Jensen called himself all kinds of idiot as he pulled out the letter and reached up to switch on the tiny lamp above his head. There was nothing to be worried about. Jensen ripped the envelope open and pulled out the thin sheet of notepaper from within. The paper had come from a notepad and the ragged edges at the top caught on the envelope as Jensen pulled it out. Jared’s handwriting was pretty neat considering he seemed to have been in a hurry.

 _Jensen-_

 _Sorry I couldn’t see you again. I asked but they wouldn’t let me in. They said they were keeping you sedated but that you should recover. I think they were telling me that just to get me to shut up. I-_ The next few words were scribbled out so thoroughly that Jensen couldn’t even make them out. _was worried about you, am worried about you. I hope you get better soon. That sounds so trite, considering you saved my life and all. I know you’ll be saying that it’s just your job but thank you._ The thank you was underlined a couple of times. _I’m giving you my address and phone number in case you get shipped back home. Give me a call, write to me, whatever. Just let me know if you’re okay. I need to know._

 _Yours,  
Jared_

There was no mention of their shared kiss, not that Jensen was really sure what Jared could have said about that. The letter sounded like one of Jared’s rambles. Jensen smoothed his fingers over the crumpled paper before sliding it back into the envelope. He replaced the envelope under his pillow and switched the light off before settling down again. He was oddly disappointed.

On the other hand, Jared had ended the letter with ‘Yours’. Jensen wondered if that meant what he’d always used it to mean. And the fact Jared needed to know if he was okay? Maybe there was a lot more in the letter than Jared had actually written. Jensen pummelled the pillow and cursed himself for behaving like a fucking silly boy with a crush. Even if he was a silly boy with a crush and an injury that no one seemed willing to give him information about.

The last thought Jensen remembered before he fell asleep was that the ball was in his court now.

 

Chris came back a few days later. “Am I posting a letter to lover boy for you, then?”

“You are overly invested in my sex life, you know that. Why do you care who I fuck?” Jensen had endured a pretty rigorous session with the doctors that morning and there wasn’t an inch of his body that didn’t ache.

“I am,” Chris said, faking modesty. “For purely selfish reasons.” Jensen grunted. “You are a grumpy fuck. If you get laid, you aren’t. So…”

“Surely the person I’m doing is the one who knows if I’m a grumpy fuck.” Jensen interrupted Chris’ flow to point out.

“You? Doing? Sorry, Jensen. But you’re a pretty, pretty princess. There isn’t a chance in hell you’re the one doing.” Chris tipped his chair back and swung on the back legs. “You even have a girly name.”

Jensen wanted to argue but knew Chris would counter whatever he said. “No letter.”

“Why not?” Chris leaned forward and steepled his hands under his chin. “Padalecki not a potential pen pal?”

Jensen wriggled on the bed. “Cause I’m going to be stateside before the letter would reach there.”

“Fucking A, man. Told you that hanging around with a journo would get you a trip home.” Chris tried to sound upbeat and mostly succeeded.

“Yeah. Jared’s paper is in Dallas, so maybe he’ll drop past the hospital and visit. At least he won’t stink up the place like some I could mention…” Jensen raised an eyebrow in Chris’ direction.

Chris frowned. “Fuck you. We live in a desert. It’s hot. I sweat.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“So, what’s the prognosis?” Chris tried to look nonchalant but failed. He came across as worried.

“Muscles in my back are torn to fuck but there doesn’t look to be any serious, serious damage. Not my spine. But it’s my back, which means that every movement is fucking torture. So it needs to heal and they keep me dosed up on the good shit. Then I get to learn how to walk again.” Jensen tried not to sound bitter as he explained. “That’s the big one.”

Chris leaned back in his seat. He knew just as well as Jensen what that kind of injury usually meant. He didn’t ask about how long, or how much mobility Jensen would retain. Instead he returned a cocky grin. “Guess that means that the twinks of Dallas aren’t going be wasting away for want of your good looks.”

Jensen knew that Chris would take his raised finger in the spirit of affection that was intended.

 

“Let me get this straight-“ Chris’ voice hissed and crackled over the shoddy connection. “Or not. You are in the Fort Worth/Dallas area. You have his phone number. You can walk again. And you haven’t even phoned to let him know you could be up for a date.”

“Overinvested, dude.” Jensen told him. He had few enough minutes left on this phone call and didn’t want to spend it being nagged at by Chris. “Tell me what the guys are up to. How’s camp?”

“The desert is eternal.” Jensen was gearing up to mock Chris for his poetic turn of phrase when Chris kept going. “I am going to tell you once, Jensen, and then I’m calling my momma and telling her what hospital you’re in. Phone him.”

“You wouldn’t do that to me. You’re supposed to be my bud. Have my back.” Jensen could see the little red numbers counting down all too quickly.

“And I’m halfway across the world, and can’t slap sense into you. Phone him. I hate the thought of you stuck in that hospital with no one to talk to.” Chris sounded weary, old, all of a sudden.

“I’m making friends, Chris. The guy with the burns is a laugh riot.” Jensen tried to sound upbeat and positive but knew he was failing.

“They want you out, yet?” Chris knew what the army was like.

Jensen took a couple of deep breaths. “Yeah. They say I should take the medal and the discharge. They’re giving me until the end of the month to decide.”

“So call Jared. Take a walk on civvy street for a few days.” Chris had his own countdown clock at his end. “Live a little.”

The call ended abruptly in the middle of Jensen’s reply. He sat with the phone for a long minute before hanging it back up.

“Fuck this, Ackles. You’re not a coward. You got medals and shit,” Jensen told himself. He dug in his top pocket and pulled out a well-thumbed letter. He’d read every word in it more times than he could count. And read between the lines too. He just hoped Jared hadn’t changed his mind.

Then he hoped he would get Jared’s voicemail. No such luck. Jared answered with a breathless sounding “Hello.” Jensen had a sudden flash that this was how Jared would sound after sex. Fuck.

“Jared? I don’t know if you remember me, but it’s Jensen Ackles here…” Jensen trailed off. Outside the doors of the booth, he could see the next person waiting tapping his watch. He scowled.

“Of course, dude. You don’t forget the guy who saves your life. How’re you doing?” Jared was as friendly and as enthusiastic as ever. Jensen hoped he wasn’t making an enormous mistake.

“I’m good. Back stateside, actually. I was wondering- I mean. You free this weekend?” Jensen wished he’d spent longer practising this conversation. Then he might not sound like a retarded fuckwit.

Jared sounded a little crestfallen. “I’m heading back to my parents. For a visit. You want to come? They’d love to meet you.” The enthusiasm was back full force.

“I was just meaning for a beer or something. We can do it…” Jensen started. He didn’t get a chance to finish.

“Not at all. My mom wants to feed you and you wouldn’t be imposing. And you could, like, see my life, like I saw yours.” Jensen could imagine Jared waving his hands around on the other end of the call. “And you could meet the dogs.”

Jensen chuckled. It would be nice to get out of the hospital. “Why don’t you come past the hospital first? To catch up?”

Jared seemed to think for a moment. “That might be a good plan. What are you up to now?”

Jensen shook his head. “I think I’m up for an exciting afternoon of quiz shows. Or maybe even soaps.”

Jared laughed. “Do you have to leave my name at the gate or anything? Can I just come over there?” Jared’s voice dropped, both in volume and in depth. “I want to see you.”

“Yeah. I want to see you too.” Jensen knew if anyone looked at him he’d be grinning a little foolishly. “I’m just gonna change my bathrobe and shit.”

“It’s a date.” Jared sounded out of breath again. Jensen hoped it was with excitement.

 

Jared didn’t see Jensen immediately when he was gestured into the ward but Jensen saw him. He spent the time cataloguing the differences between the guy he’d known for a too short week and the man in front of him here. Jared was different, more at ease. Maybe it was the well-worn jeans, the flip flops, the comfortable looking t-shirt, but Jensen thought it was something else. It was the ease in Jared’s grin, the way he was holding himself taller. He hadn’t exactly lacked confidence before but this was Jared’s turf in a way it wasn’t Jensen’s.

Jared shook the hand of the nurse and followed the pointing finger to Jensen. Jensen waved as Jared came closer.

“Sight for sore eyes, man,” Jared breathed out as he got closer. He grabbed Jensen’s still out-stretched hand and squeezed it tight for a moment.

“Hey.” Jensen couldn’t think of anything else to say. Instead he drank in Jared’s face. His even smile, the way his hair had lightened from the summer sun. The way his eyes seemed equally caught on Jensen. Jensen coughed uncomfortably after a moment and lay back down on the bed. “Hope you don’t mind me not getting up. The physio is killing me at the moment.”

“Yeah.” Jared looked queasy but took a deep breath and spoke again. “What’s the prognosis?”

“Pretty good, actually. I should get most of my mobility back. Need a cane for a bit and some kickass painkillers.” Jensen held back on what was really bothering him. Jared didn’t need to know about the army “encouraging” him to quit. “What you been up to?”

Jared’s hand came up and squeezed at Jensen’s shoulder. His voice was soft when he spoke again. “I can’t believe you’re here. I just need to keep checking.” Then Jared coughed. “Been doing a lot of photo work round here, actually. Since the article came out, I’m actually pretty sought after.”

“Never saw it,” Jensen admitted.

Jared laughed and rubbed his hand through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead. “Yeah, didn’t think you had. You might not have been quite so willing to let me come see you then.”

Jensen gave him the kind of look he might have given Chris. Jared seemed equally unaffected. What worked on jarhead recruits didn’t seem work on guys who’d seen him drunk. Or who he’d made out with. Instead he fished in what Jensen had taken to be a laptop bag and pulled out one of those glossy supplements that came with Sunday newspapers.

“Here you go. My first big photo story. Also known as Jensen Ackles: Big Damn Hero.” Jared flicked through the magazine until he found the article. He let out a low whistle. “Now I remember why my mother wanted to meet you so badly.”

Jensen scowled again but Jared held the magazine just out of reach and flicked through it. “Of course, I think they used too many of Misha’s photos. He went the stereotypical route of flag waving and bombed out cars.” Jared tilted the magazine as if he were about to reveal a centrefold. “I knew I should have had you pose in only your boots and… helmet.”

“You’re imagining that now, you fucking pervert,” Jensen retorted, holding out his hand impatiently. Jared finally passed the magazine over and Jensen looked through it. It wasn’t as bad as he’d expected. There were shots of the camp and of him joking around with Chris. There were shots of him looking oddly serious and intent, focused on his surroundings. There was even a shot of him freezing his ass off on night duty. “S’good though.”

Jared shrugged, as uneasy with the compliment as Jensen was with being the subject of the article. “This weekend?”

“Is it not a bit quick to be meeting your parents?” Jensen joked. “Do you not believe in sex before marriage or something?”

Jared took his time looking over Jensen from the tips of his toes to the top of his head, lingering over his ass. Jensen found himself wishing they weren’t in a hospital ward. “I’d never get laid then, since it’s illegal and everything here.”

Jensen had to bite down on his tongue. The things he wanted to do to Jared were downright illegal. He found his eyes catching on Jared’s mouth as he licked his lips. “Yeah. This weekend. Are you sure I’m not, like, imposing or anything?”

“Seriously not.” Jared stretched out his hand and pressed his palm against Jensen’s shoulder, brushing his hand downwards in what could only be called a caress. “I want to show you where I’m from, I guess. Want you to get to know me for me, not because you have to.”

Jensen found himself smiling at that. He liked the idea of getting to know Jared better. Chris, the son of a bitch, had been right. Maybe it was right for him to get out and see what living life as a civilian was like.

 

“Remember, just tell me if you don’t want to do anything. Or need a break. Or anything.” Jared was taking deep breaths in the front seat of his car. Jensen looked over from the passenger seat. He’d faced full-on Iraqi insurgencies with more calm.

“I still can’t believe your mom wants to meet me,” Jensen said, trying to keep Jared calm.

It didn’t work. Jared looked over with panic in his eyes. “She said she wanted to meet you because I talked about you all the time. This is almost worse than the time I introduced Jack Muir to her.”

“Who was Jack Muir?” Jensen asked, suddenly a little jealous.

“My first boyfriend.” Jared turned back to look at the perfectly innocent, perfectly normal house.

Jensen looked at it. It looked a little bit like his own mother’s house, with the neat lawn and the flowerbeds. “I’m a little different from your first boyfriend, I guess.”

“Fuck.” Jared slammed his head into the steering wheel. “Fuck. Fuck Fuck.”

“This is a new look for you,” Jensen commented. He watched the front door open and a smaller, more condensed female version of Jared come out. “I don’t think you get to put it off any longer.”

Jared looked up, then bolted upright in his seat. He was out of the car and coming around to Jensen’s side before Jensen really caught up with what was happening. “I don’t need anyone to open my door like some kind of damsel, man.”

“I’m just being polite,” Jared hissed, out of the side of his mouth as Jensen swung his legs out carefully. He took the stick Jared offered and used it to leverage himself out of the low car. “Hey, mom. This is-“

“Jensen!” Jensen found himself wrapped in a tight hug. “Welcome to my house. I hope you are hungry.” Jared’s mom – Mrs Padalecki – seem insistent on keeping hold of him. Jared closed the car door and popped the trunk to grab the bags. Jensen was drawn inexorably towards the front door. He checked over his shoulder to see Jared trotting closely behind.

“Mom!” Jared tried warning, as Mrs Padalecki pulled Jensen through the door. Jensen managed to get his stick on the top step before he overbalanced but he still stumbled a little on the threshold.

Jared’s mom let him go and stood back, a horrified expression on her face. “Sorry, Mrs Padalecki. I just need to go a little slower,” Jensen reassured. “Now where are these dogs I’ve been hearing so much about?”

Jared came up beside him after dropping the bags. “Are they out back?”

Mrs Padalecki looked between them for a moment before shaking herself. “They are. Just go sit down in the living room. I’ll get you some drinks. Tea? Or would you prefer beer?”

Jared smiled back at her. “Mom. Calm down. Jensen, what’d you like?”

“Just some water’d do fine, Mrs Padalecki. If that’s not too much trouble.” Jensen started moving in the direction she’d pointed, hoping the door led to the living room. Jared was close on his heels. Unfortunately the room was also rather full of people. There was a seat close to the door, one of those high-backed ones that people with bad backs used. Jared nodded towards it when Jensen looked at him hoping for some guidance.

Jensen settled in, smiling uneasily at the other people. They resumed the conversations that had been going on before he interrupted and Jared took the chance of the cover of noise to lean close to Jensen. “Remember. If it gets too much... I think Mom borrowed the chair special for you.”

“S’comfy,” Jensen reassured him. He had to repress the urge to ask if he could help out. “You want to give your mom the candy from my bag?”

“Later. Now you need introductions.” Jared started pointing round the room, naming the people. Jensen picked up the idea that most of Jared’s neighbours and aunts and uncles were in the room. A few of them were sneaking glances over at him and Jared and it made him want to squirm. He wasn’t used to being the centre of any kind of attention. He was just a grunt.

He certainly wasn’t a hero, no matter the way that Jared’s mom seemed to look at him with stars in her eyes. She handed him a glass filled with ice and Jensen sipped at it gratefully. Jared was chatting to an older man – either his pastor or his old high school principal – as Jared’s mom settled beside him. “Jensen – I can call you Jensen. Not Mr Ackles. I feel like I know you from the way that Jared talked about you after he got home from his trip.”

Jensen took another drink of water. “Jensen’s fine. It was just nice of Jared to invite me here.” Jensen wasn’t sure if the painkillers were wearing off or if he was finding the attention a bit much. Even so, a slow throb started at the base of his neck.

“Anything for the man who saved his life,” Jared’s mom replied. Jensen knew his smile was tense. That wasn’t quite why he was here, Jensen realised. He was here partly because of Chris’ advice but also because it was hard to say no to Jared. Real fucking hard. “When was the last time you had a home-cooked meal? I guess you soldier boys don’t get home as much as you should.”

“It’s okay. Jared just told me I could meet his dogs. I don’t want you to go to any trouble or anything.” Jensen felt the throb start to develop into a full-blown headache. He needed to take some meds and have a rest. Maybe the constant sun on the drive was responsible.

Jared looked over then and seemed to understand that Jensen needed a break. “Hey, I’m just going to let Jensen get washed up and show him where he’ll be staying. It was a long drive.”

 

The hallway seemed cooler, which was ridiculous as the air con was on full blast in the house. Jared grabbed at the bags he’d dumped in the hallway and nodded towards the stairs. Jensen looked at them wearily.

“Give me a minute and I’ll come help…” Jared started to offer before he caught the look on Jensen’s face. “Or you could start heading up the stairs on your own.”

Jensen scowled again. “Yeah.”

It took him longer than he really wanted to climb up the short flight of stairs. For all that the physiotherapist had him swimming in the resistance pool and was driving him nuts with exercises, he wasn’t ready to be here in the real world, in the normal world, not just yet. He had to lean against the wall at the top of the stairs before making his way along the hallway to the open door.

Jared’s childhood bedroom was exactly what he’d expected. A battered bookcase, photographs everywhere. There were sports trophies and boxes piled in the corner. Jared stood looking around, probably trying to see the place through Jensen’s eyes. A bed took up most of the space along one wall and looked mighty tempting. Jensen shuffled over and lay down, not entirely managing to stifle a sigh of relief as the weight was taken off his back.

“Are you sore? Can I get you anything?” Jared sounded mildly panicked. Jensen thought he sounded a bit like his mother and told him that. Jared’s face scrunched up for a moment and Jensen knew he’d hit a nerve.

“Just calm down. I just… It’s been a while since I’ve been around as many people.” Jensen ran his hand over his mouth. “I feel so stupid.”

Jared was still hovering in the middle of the floor. Then he kicked off his sneakers and crawled onto the other side of the bed beside Jensen. It was a tight fit but Jared squirmed around until he lay alongside. Jensen looked at him quizzically.

“Okay, so it’s not quite how I imagined you in my bed, but I’ll take what I can get,” Jared told him, mock-serious all of a sudden. Jensen snorted out a laugh as he let his head fall back on the pillows.

They lay there in comfortable silence. Jensen could hear movement from downstairs, doors opening and closing. He knew that he was being a bad guest but part of him just didn’t want to move. It was a treat to be lying here, cool and comfortable, with another person… no, not just another person. With the person he wanted to be lying next to. He turned his head and watched Jared stretch up and touch the photos pinned to the wall beside the bed. Yeah, he could get used to this part of civilian life pretty damn quickly.

Jared twisted so he was leaning on an elbow, looking down at Jensen. “So, alone at last?”

Jensen nodded, unable to speak. He was suddenly unaccountably nervous. This was no ordinary hook-up. This was a deliberate choice that he had to make to take steps that he’d never taken before. Steps that might result in all the things he’d sworn off: relationships, partners, love. Jared brought one of his too big yet delicate hands up and brushed his fingertips over Jensen’s cheek.

“You’re counting freckles,” Jensen whispered, suddenly afraid to break the mood with a loud voice.

Jared ducked his head. He brought his hand up more firmly to cup Jensen’s jaw and turn it towards him. Jensen went willingly, shifting closer on the bed to put his lips at a more advantageous angle. Jared brought his head down and sank into the kiss. Jensen gave himself over to it, letting Jared ruck up his t-shirt and smooth his hand over his belly. Jensen was equally interested in working his own hand down under Jared’s waistband, to pull him closer, to cup his hand around the smooth curve of Jared’s ass. Jared moaned as Jensen tightened his grip, unconsciously rutting his hips against Jensen’s thigh.

Jensen broke the kiss, pulling back. “I want to – God! I want to – but your mother…”

Jared chased his lips for a moment, pulling him into another kiss before the words seemed to sink in. “You’re right. Cockblockers.” Jared looked like a mutinous little boy for a moment, out and out pouting. It was so adorable that Jensen had to pull him in for just one more kiss. He untangled his hand from Jared’s underwear but let it linger at the small of his back for a long moment, just breathing against Jared’s mouth.

Then Jared lay down beside Jensen and settled his hand over Jensen’s t-shirt. He kept it possessively on his stomach though. Jensen enjoyed the weight of it as he got his breathing under control.

 

A knock on the door woke Jensen from a light doze. It took him a moment to remember where he was. Jared shifted back on the bed, trapped against the wall and called out for whoever it was to come in. Jared’s mom swept in, carrying another tall glass of water. “I thought Jensen might want this.”

Jensen used his hands to prop himself up. “Sorry. I should-“

“You do nothing of the kind. Don’t worry. You just relax. I’m heading out for a bit and letting you boys recover from the trip down. Dinner’ll be around six but there’s snacks in the fridge if you get hungry.” Mrs Padalecki came over and fluffed the pillow behind Jensen’s head. She settled on the very edge of the bed for a moment and patted his arm. She looked like she was about to say something else but instead gave Jensen a tight smile with tears behind it. “I’m just glad you could come visit,” she choked out, eventually.

Jensen wasn’t sure how to respond. He brought his own hand up and squeezed hers. This unspoken gratitude for being the one to save someone’s life was new to him. Normally he had anti-war protesters telling him to quit, or people telling him he was a hero in the most general of terms. The families of the other soldiers got it; they knew what the job was. Jensen put it out of his mind. The next thought that took over was equally inappropriate. If she was heading out… Not the thought to have with the mother of the man you wanted to fuck sitting there.

Jared took charge, something Jensen was grateful for. “Jensen knows, Mom. See you for dinner.”

She squeezed Jensen’s arm one more time before slipping out, shutting the door behind her. Jensen listened to her descend the stairs before rolling back to Jared. Jared’s eyes held an eager glint but he didn’t move until they held the front door shut and silence spread through the rest of the house. Then Jared sat up and stripped off his t-shirt. Jensen looked up the expanse of broad chest, enjoying the tanned skin. He obviously spent too long looking as Jared tugged at Jensen’s own shirt impatiently.

“I don’t want to wait. I don’t want anything else to happen.” Jared said. Jensen let him take off the t-shirt. Then he brought his hands to Jared’s belt, deftly undoing it. Jared’s attempts to unfasten Jensen’s jeans were hindered by the kisses that Jared was starting to press into Jensen’s mouth, his jawline, his neck, his shoulders, his collarbone. Jensen took over the unbuttoning when Jared’s mouth fixed onto one of his nipples, biting and rolling it in his mouth.

Jensen arched into the feeling, letting out a gasp when Jared grazed his teeth over the tender skin. Jared used the movement to pull Jensen’s jeans and underwear down, dropping them onto the floor behind him. Jensen pulled back to do the same to Jared. Then they were skin to skin, totally naked together for the first time. Jensen pulled Jared up so he was flush against him and kissed him thoroughly, feeling the hard warm weight of his erection promising more than just a few kisses and gropes.

Hands were entwined above Jensen’s head as Jared moved down his body, kissing and licking and biting and taking everything he could from Jensen’s skin, learning it with his mouth. Jared pulled back suddenly, then, leaving Jensen feeling cold.

“What?” Jensen asked at the uncomfortable expression on Jared’s face.

“We never talked about this. Who is…?” Jared ran his hand over his face. “I mean, I like…”

Jensen groaned at the thought. He was so turned on it almost hurt to think. “Fuck me. Then I’ll fuck you next time.”

Jared leaned forward and kissed Jensen eagerly. Jensen made a disappointed sound as Jared pulled back again and swung off the bed. “Definitely,” Jared promised, pulling open the bag he’d brought with him and tumbling clothes out left and right to get to his washbag. Jensen wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked it as Jared took too long in fumbling the zip open and pulling out lube and a condom. He looked over his shoulder at Jensen, eyes dark and cheeks flushed.

Jensen took the time to look Jared over, admiring the strong muscles of his thighs revealed by his crouch. He let his eyes linger over the flat planes of Jared’s stomach and the sculpted skin of his chest. Then he let his eyes drop to the thick cock he’d felt brushing against him. Jensen knew there would be an answering darkness in his own eyes, the green swallowed up by his lust-blown pupils. Jensen spread his legs on the bed, tilting his hips and leaving Jared an unspoken invitation. Jared wasted no more time in returning to the bed, opening the tube of slick and running his fingers down below Jensen’s balls and circling around his hole.

“Jared-“ Jensen bit out, wriggling impatiently. “I need you to fuck me now, not when the cows come home.” Then speech was taken from him as Jared pressed a thick, long finger in while bringing his wicked mouth to bear on Jensen’s cock. Forget the fucking insurgents: it was Jared who going to kill him with his mouth and his fingers and his cock. Jensen decided that this was the way he wanted to go, as Jared eased himself inside. Then all thoughts of anything other than fuck and more and full and good were gone.

 

It was just the three of them at the dinner table. Jensen answered all of Mrs Padalecki’s questions about the hospital and his treatment. He listened carefully as Jared chatted about his latest photo commissions and about the weather and about his neighbours. It was domestic and weird and wonderful at the same time. Jared had his hand slapped when he tried to slip some of the meatloaf under the table to the dogs crouched at his feet.

Jensen took the beer when she offered it this time.

Later, Jensen ended up in the living room again. Without the people, the room seemed cosy. Jared found Sportcenter and they sat back on the sofa, legs tangled. Jensen could feel the meds taking the edge of pain off again. He could live like this.

“I’ve never had a house. Or an apartment. Or a condo.” Jensen kept his eyes on the TV.

Jared wasn’t so reticent. He watched Jensen. “You must have stuff. Everyone has stuff.”

“I have a pile of boxes in Chris’ parents’ basement. But I’ve lived in barracks or in people’s spare rooms... Whatever.” Jensen leaned over to pet the dog who had lain on his side of the sofa. He liked having the dogs around.

“You needing to get an apartment?” Jared asked after a few minutes.

“Maybe.” Jensen let his fingers ruffle the fur at the back of the dog’s neck. “I don’t know how you do that.”

“Do what?” Jared’s voice was calm and disinterested. “Find an apartment?”

“That. And pay taxes. Or buy a car.” Jensen gave up the pretence of doing anything else rather than having this conversation. “They want me to take a discharge.”

“Okay.” Jared dragged the word out. Then he took a sip from the beer he had in his hand. Then he leaned forward and clicked the TV off. “So what do you want to do?”

“I went into the Army when I graduated High School. I’ve never fucking lived on my own. Uncle Sam told me where to go, what to eat, how high to jump.” Jensen ran his hand through his hair. “And now they’re talking medical discharge. A desk job, fine. I can handle a desk. They don’t have to offer that. That’s good?” Jensen looked at Jared.

“What do you want to do?” Jared brought his hand down and laid it on Jensen’s leg.

Jensen looked at the hand for a long minute. “I want to go back in time and stop that motherfucking suicide bomber from getting close enough.” He could feel a lump rising in his throat. “I liked being a soldier, you know. Not because I like guns or I like fighting. I’m not a hero or anything. I just liked being a soldier.” Jensen was ashamed to hear his voice break on the last. He coughed to clear his throat and took a drink of the water sitting beside him.

Jared didn’t say anything. Instead they sat in the dark room and looked at nothing for too long a time.

 

Jensen slept in Jared’s bed. Jared slept on the sofa. Jensen felt bad about it when he saw Jared wincing in the morning but he was selfish enough about it to not want to offer to swap. Instead he followed Jared down the street as Jared ran back and forth with the dogs and ate breakfast cooked on a stove in the same room as the table. Then he showered and went back to sitting on the sofa. He was slightly more uncomfortable in a pair of pressed pants and a shirt and tie. When Jared joined him, Jensen was smirked at his neatly combed hair.

“Bite me.” Jared slumped in the seat. Jensen quirked his eyebrow. “And now I’m going to be thinking about that all through church.”

“Could be worse.” Jensen leaned back so he pressed his shoulder and thigh against Jared.

Jared looked over at him grumpily.

“You could be thinking about that other matter we discussed yesterday, you know.” Jensen enjoyed how Jared’s puzzlement gave way to lust and then to something closer to frustration. “There you go.”

“Hate you.” Jared replied.

Jensen was smug. “No, you don’t.”

“No. I really don’t.” Jared looked over. The frustration was gone. In his eyes, there was a look that Jensen wasn’t quite ready to put a name to. Or possibly admit that Jared might be able to see in his own eyes.

 

The church service was nice. It wasn’t too different from the services Jensen had attended as a kid, really. Or the ones he’d attended on base. He sat in the pew and stood and sang along to mainly familiar hymns. Sat when the others did. Bowed his head when indicated. Jared told Jensen that he never really went to church on his own. He just did it to make his mom happy. Jensen could appreciate that.

Even so, it was okay. There was a weird moment in one of the prayers that Jensen was half listening to when he heard Jared’s name and then his own being said. The pastor was thanking God for bringing them both home safe. Jensen hadn’t really examined the role of God in it all. He had trusted his training and his equipment. He hadn’t blamed God, that was for sure, for the injury.

He didn’t blame Jared either. It was just his time. His suicide bomber. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.

After the service, the pastor made sure to come and speak to Jensen and shake his hand. Jensen had a cup of coffee and had to jiggle around to return the handshake. The pastor turned out to be the man Jared had talked to yesterday.

“Sorry I didn’t speak to you yesterday, sir. The journey…” Jensen wasn’t quite sure how to explain himself.

The pastor clapped him on the shoulder. “No problem, son. Just happy you came to visit us. We’re so happy what you did for Jared.”

Jensen hid his uneasy smile with a sip of his coffee.

“Are we going to be seeing you around? Visiting often?” The pastor watched Jensen keenly. Jensen wondered if he knew what Jared and he had done as the visitors left the house. The idea that the pastor had a hotline to God or something made Jensen smile a little more genuinely.

Jensen shrugged. “Depends on Jared, I guess.”

“What depends on me?” Jared came over. He didn’t have coffee but he had a cake holding a ridiculously enormous piece of cake. He forked a chunk of it into his mouth.

The pastor answered for them both. “I was asking whether we’d be seeing Jensen around again. Just so he knows he’s welcome any time.”

Jared chewed the cake thoughtfully. Jensen drunk his coffee. There was an uncomfortable pause for a few moments. “I consider Jensen a good friend. Of course he’ll be visiting again.”

The pastor rocked on his heels. Jensen could feel the undercurrent of tension. “A good friend?”

“Pastor, we’ve had this discussion. I know your opinion on it and, frankly, it’s none of your business. You can’t help who you fall in love with.” Jared was quiet, polite but resolute.

The pastor nodded. “But I preach it as the bible calls it, son.” Jared and he exchanged tight smiles and the pastor left.

“So that’s another thing you have to deal with in civilian life, I guess,” Jared said after he’d eaten another chunk of cake. “Apartment hunting, taxes, transportation and who you come out to.”

Jensen shrugged and swallowed his coffee. A black sinking feeling was making itself known in his guts.

 

They were mostly silent on the drive back. Jared’s mom had Jared mow the lawn after church and then loaded them up with more food before they hit the road. Jensen had sat on the back porch with a glass of ice tea and laughed when Jared showed him the hickey high on his pectoral muscle that meant he couldn’t strip off the ratty t-shirt he was wearing despite feeling the heat.

There had been no time for anything other than a quick fumbling kiss after Jared showered. Jensen wished he’d been able to taste Jared when he was fresh out of the garden, glistening with sweat. Jensen shifted in his seat to make himself more comfortable as he thought about it.

“So. That was my momma,” Jared teased, obviously trying to break the tension.

“She’s nice.” Jensen laughed. “She’s more than nice.” He felt himself ease more comfortably back, the knot of worry between his shoulders easing. “I liked being fed all weekend.”

“Tell me about it. I can cook, a bit. But it’s mainly reheating and takeout for me.” Jared drummed his fingertips on the steering wheel as he navigated through the traffic. It was still busy, always busy, even though it was a Sunday.

“Not too bad,” Jensen replied. “Better than hospital food. Sometimes I would kill for pizza.” Jensen scrubbed his hand over his mouth. “Choosing your own food all the time.”

Jared threw out a hand and squeezed Jensen’s leg. “Sounds like you’re making one of the pro/con lists.”

“I guess I am,” Jensen replied. He covered Jared’s hand on his thigh for a moment before letting Jared put it back on the steering wheel. “There’s a lot to think about.”

Jared turned his car and before he was really aware of it, Jensen was back at the base and waiting for them to check his ID. “I still need time. To decide.”

Jared concentrated on following the signs directing him to the hospital and finding a place to park. He paused before getting out of the car. “I think you should know. I’m here whatever you decide.” Jared’s eyes were genuine when he looked at Jensen, honest intent plain on his face.

Jensen liked that idea. “You gotta come visit me more. Bring me news of the world outside.”

“I can do that.” Jared unfastened his seatbelt and got out of the car. Jensen waited a few more moments before gathering himself to do the same. He felt like he’d been away for months, not for two days. He was exhausted by it all.

 

The line was bad the next time he called Chris. It was late at night for him, early the next day for Chris and the ward was silent with most of the lights off.

They caught up on news, the guys, the rumoured redeployment. Every time Jensen spoke to Chris, the stories seemed less like something he’d participated in once upon a time. It was like another lifetime. Chris waited until the end of the call before falling silent, the hissing static filling the gap. “You decided yet.”

“Almost,” Jensen replied. “I’m thinking I’m going to take it.”

“What changed your mind?” Chris asked, before following it up with, “Cause I’m a fucking nosy douche who needs to know all your business.”

“I’m thirty, man. I need to start living my own life.” Saying it out loud made the reason seem even more ridiculous. “That sounds fucking stupid.”

“No,” Chris’ voice was almost drowned out by the rattling noise. “I get it.” He cut off a few seconds later and Jensen sat in the silent booth, enjoying the privacy for a few more minutes.

 

Jared was nervous as he came to see Jensen. Jensen was bored. He’d seen enough TV to last him a lifetime. He had read what felt like every magazine and book in the place. He wanted to break out of these four walls, out of the hospital. He wanted to be with his friends.

Jared’s leg kept jiggling and, irritated, Jensen thrust his hand out to still it. He probably let his hand linger there too long, clasped tight around Jared’s leg, feeling the muscles tense. Jensen found himself wanting to be somewhere alone with Jared so they could continue the exploration of each other that stalled the minute Jensen was back on base.

“I’ve had an idea,” Jared said when Jensen let go and settled back against his pillows. “But you can tell me if I’m being stupid.”

“You’re always stupid,” Jensen returned automatically but his heart wasn’t really in it. “Tell me.”

“My roomie is moving out – going to live with his girlfriend, which is a bad plan – and leaving me with a spare room and a huge rent. There’s no way I can afford the place on my own. And he’s giving me a month’s notice. But instead of me having to advertise and find a new roomie and everything-“ Jared looked at Jensen wide-eyed. Jensen waited for him to finish what he was saying but Jared seemed unable to continue.

Jensen let the pause develop a little longer before asking, “You want me to move in?”

Jared jerked his head up and down. “No pressure. I just thought. You were saying about wanting to be out of here soon. And everything.”

Jensen lay back and gazed at the ceiling. Jared was right. He was on a timetable. Another two weeks and they were moving him out of the ward. He had to make some important decisions pretty damn quickly.

“It could be just to help me out in the short term. I’m not… Well, I am asking you to move in with me, but not because we might be-“ Jared swallowed. “I’m saying, you’d have your own room and everything. Chad’s leaving the furniture. You wouldn’t have to explain the situation to a new person.”

Jensen looked back at Jared, who was obviously running through a prepared list of reasons. It wasn’t like he knew everything about Jared but living with him appealed more than the idea of moving in with a total stranger. He liked Jared. Jensen smiled as he thought about that. He more than liked Jared. “Roommates, huh?”

Jared looked like he was going to say more but he closed his mouth firmly and nodded. “Just an idea.”

“And you have no problem with me perhaps not sleeping in my own bed all the time?” Jensen could feel a blush spread over his cheeks.

“Where would you be sleeping?” Jared asked, not getting it at first. Then he looked down at the floor. “Just checking – you mean my bed, right? Not like dating other people.”

“That would be right,” Jensen drawled. The more he thought about the idea, the more he liked it. He would have his own space, but Jared was right. He wouldn’t have to explain his injuries or his story. He wouldn’t have to look for references or fill out forms. And there was this pressure in his chest, sort of like a band tied tight around him, when Jensen thought about coming back to Jared’s bed at the end of the day. It felt like the right idea. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” Jared smiled hesitantly, ducking his head forward so his hair fell into his eyes. He tucked it back behind his ears.

“Although, you’ve yet to put up with my stinking socks for any length of time. That might make you change your mind.” Jensen tried to joke to relieve the tension.

Jared’s eyes were bright when he leaned closer, careful to not be too close still. He kept his voice low and dark. “You have no idea how much I fucking want to kiss you right now.”

Jensen felt the band round his chest tighten. He licked his suddenly dry lips and smiled when Jared’s eyes zoomed in on the movement. “Yeah, I kinda do.”

 

Jensen knew it had to be perfect. He breathed warm air over his shoe and buffed it one more time. Then he carefully slotted his foot in, tying the laces and straightening the knot. He stood up, brushing his hands over the seat of his pants before reaching for his jacket. The belt went around the outside, also polished to a high sheen, before Jensen placed his hat carefully on his neatly combed hair.

He checked himself over in the mirror, top to toe. He flicked imaginary dirt off his shoulder before taking a deep breath. He took the cane from where it was resting against the bed and headed out.

There were a lot of lasts times here. Last night was the last time he’d sleep in barracks. His last meal in the mess. His last shower with all the guys. His last time wearing his uniform. Jensen kept his back straight as he met up with a couple of the other guys on the way to the muster point. They were joking and relaxed, but their smiles dipped when they looked at him. Jensen shrugged off their sympathy.

He still had to take a deep breath again to steady his nerves before shuffling into place. Last time he’d march in formation, as well as he could march. He’d tried to persuade the organising officer that he could do this without his cane but the doctors had overruled him. He was going to be standing for longer than they were happy with anyway. There was a guy in a wheelchair at the front of the line. At least Jensen was being spared that.

The band started up, Sousa marches. They paraded out, slowly.

There was a crowd, bigger than Jensen was expecting really. A mixture of women, children, older men, soldiers, all cheering. All applauding. Jensen let his eyes search the crowd while he waited for the speeches to be over. It was hot, and he could feel the sweat trickling down his spine. His legs shook a little and he tightened his grip on his cane. He should be listening to the speeches.

Instead his eyes met Jared’s. Jared was sitting sprawled on a bench, camera dangling around his chest. He was beaming. There was no other word to describe the wide smile on his face. Jensen let himself watch Jared before shifting his attention to the group around him. Jared’s mom. Jared’s nephew. His brother. Jensen kept his face appropriately stern as he looked at his Jared who had no such worry. His grin nearly outshone the blinding whiteness of his shirt. Jensen wondered what Jared would look like if the shirt were, say, to get wet. That was more interesting that listening to the speeches.

Eventually, the speeches started to wind down and the actual ceremony was beginning. Jensen shifted to attention, hiding the wince he wanted to give in to, and waited his turn. The band were playing softly now, something more lilting and gentle than their usual marches. Jensen saluted. That might be one of the last salutes he had to give.

Two medals were pinned to his jacket. He met Jared’s eyes over the General’s shoulder as they were attached. It didn’t really mean much, anymore. It wasn’t like he’d get ribbons to stitch onto his other uniforms or do more than shove these ones in the bottom of a drawer. In a room. That might possibly have Jared’s junk shoved in it too, like old high school football trophies or something.

Jensen shook the General’s hand and returned the salute once more. He was done. He wanted to be finished and in Jared’s car on the way to the apartment.

After the interminable ceremony finished, and Jensen heard the “Company. Dismissed” one last time, he finally let himself smile up into the stands. People were pouring off them to meet up with the soldiers they’d come to support. Jensen walked forward to meet his own friends. “Thanks for coming.”

“I can hug you, right?” Jared asked, his arms already open and outstretched. Jensen stepped forward into their circle and wrapped his own arms around Jared and held tight for a moment before pulling back. Then Mrs Padalecki was holding him close. She held a crumpled handkerchief in one hand.

“So proud of you, Jensen,” she whispered in his ear. She stepped back to let the others clap him on the shoulder and shake his hand. The boy wanted to see his medal and hooted when Jared hauled him up in his arms to get a closer look.

Jared came with him to fetch the last of his duffels from the barracks. “Doesn’t look too different from the desert.”

Jensen looked around the cramped space. He knew that Jared’s apartment wasn’t that much bigger but it would only have the two of them in it. Well, the two of them and Jared’s enormous dogs. “Not going to miss it, that’s for sure.”

“You say the sweetest things,” Jared replied, while Jensen checked the locker at the side of his bed one last time. When he looked up, Jared was smiling a little wickedly.

“What?” Jensen asked, suddenly suspicious.

Jared’s eyes swept up and down Jensen’s body. “Do you get to keep the uniform?” Jared’s eyes were hot.

“Sadly no,” Jensen drawled. “I have to return it Monday when I come in for work.”

Jared looked pretty happy at that. “Monday you say…”

Jensen hit him in the arm with no real strength behind it. “Pervert.”

Jared didn’t argue. Instead he came even closer and whispered in Jensen’s ear. “What about your boots? Do you get to keep them?”

Jensen nodded and grabbed his duffel. Jared took the pile of paper Jensen handed him without complaint or comment. Instead his wide grin answered for him.

“Are you sure we have to go to lunch?” Jared finally asked as they closed the door behind them.


End file.
